


We're All We've Got

by Magnetic_Stars



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, As kind and patient as he'll ever be, Gotham, Jerome bonding with animals, Mentions of Insanity, Short One Shot, late night thoughts with Jerome, restless nights, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetic_Stars/pseuds/Magnetic_Stars
Summary: A peculiar visitor stumbles into Jerome's cell during the night.Naturally, Jerome lays flat on his stomach in order to greet it properly.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	We're All We've Got

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short and sweet idea that's been recommended to me by a Tumblr user. I firmly believe that Jerome has a soft spot for animals, especially if we consider how closely he worked with them during his circus days. Jerome may be a monster to many, but I'm sure that some little critters out there think the world of him and I wanted to explore that here.

Jerome felt restless all night; his mind was too caught up with his plan to escape Arkham Asylum for once and for all. He could’ve left at any given moment, but Jerome was a perfectionist and ever the showman. Everything had to be just right for him to pull off the greatest show of the lifetime.

He laid in the dark over the covers of his bed. With his eyes closed, his fingers drummed a rhythmical beat against his stomach while he swam around in his thoughts.

It was never totally quiet at Arkham, there was always some commotion going on down the hall, someone laughing, or crying, or whaling, but Jerome learned to ignore them all. It was easy, his mother made more noise during his circus days.

He rolled his eyes, pushing the memory of her to the back of his head. Even in death she still managed to get under his skin. With a grunt, he spun onto his side and tried to dive back into his strategy-building.

A new sound piqued his interest. It was coming from the corner of his cell. A scratching, some distinct rapid movement.

His eyes narrowed in the dark, his fingers clutched the sharp razor blade he kept under his flat pillow.

Then, he heard a soft squeaking and his muscles instantly relaxed. He was well familiar with the sound of a squeaking mouse. Mice used to hide in the hay he’d feed the circus animals. Sometimes they made a nest for themselves and raised entire families. He was ordered to kill them whenever he’d spot them. They were, after all, vermin, but Jerome never did such a thing. He’d chase them out into the night. If they were stubborn, he’d catch them by the tails and release them far away from the circus grounds. It’s not that his heart was exceptionally big towards vermin… but he, himself, was vermin to many people, and in a way, he understood them completely.

Flicking on the single lightbulb they’ve supplied him with, Jerome waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden light. In the far corner, he saw no mouse, but he wasn’t stupid. There was a mouse in his cell and it was hiding.

Pulling himself up to his feet, he knelt by the tiny hole in the wall and grinned to himself.

Mouse droppings. A small mouse, then, Jerome mused to himself, and it was scared.

“Out you come, little fella,” he said quietly. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

He stayed this way for a few minutes, but the squeaking didn’t return. He sighed, but he wasn’t going to give up. Food at Arkham was shit, but Jerome had a knack for the salted crackers they’d offer whenever soup was on the menu. He’d never drink the soup – _he hated soup_ – but he made sure to stock up on those crackers though. They made for a most excellent midnight snack.

He crumbled half a cracker by the opening in the wall and proceeded to lay on his stomach, facing it. The ground was cold, making Jerome shiver involuntarily, but he wasn’t planning on moving away. While he waited for the mouse to return, his thoughts soared. Funny, how people never truly change. Jerome was using the tactic he always used whenever he attempted to gain the trust of an animal. He had to admit to himself that he loved this part - the waiting part. To win the trust of an animal is no small accomplishment. An animal bases everything it does on basic primal instinct. It can decide whether or not you mean them harm by your smell, your stance, or your eyes. It’s why Jerome was on his stomach. It’s why he offered it food in a proclamation of peace. It’s why he didn’t force it to come out before it was ready to. An animal will never approach those they don’t trust, but they have always – _always_ – trusted Jerome.

Pillowing his chin over his folded arms, he waited patiently, vaguely listening to the man hysterically crying a few cells away because he was denied his meds. It was the same episode every night; Jerome recited it all line-by-line by now.

_Arkham is so… boring._

The scratching sounds of tiny, shuffling feet returned. Jerome perked up and held his breath. When a tiny pink nose poked out to curiously sniff the crumbles, Jerome grinned.

He watched it silently at first, lazily dropping his head to one side as he watched the mouse satisfy its hunger. The more it ate, the more he saw of its little white face. Its eyes were wide and black with fear, staring back at Jerome as though it was Death greeting it.

Jerome knew how to handle frightened little critters. He might not have dealt with animals daily anymore, but it was embedded in him like coded intuition. He couldn’t turn a blind eye on this mouse now that he knew it was there. Animals were once his only companions, he owed them a lot. Exhibiting some kindness towards them was the least he could offer them in return.

Once the mouse finished its small portion, it eagerly sniffed for more. Jerome crushed the other half of the cracker and crumbled it a bit farther away from the hole, urging the mouse out of the shadows.

It scurried away from him, but Jerome expected that. It’d be back, but at least it now got to know the hand feeding it. Perhaps it could understand that Jerome meant it no harm.

“You gotta come out sooner or later,” Jerome said, yawning into the sleeve of his uniform. “I’m not going anywhere so you might as well get it over with.”

One minute… Two, Three…

The pink nose came back, and Jerome stifled a small chuckle.

“Y’know,” he started amiably. “It’s always surprised me how much you mice eat. You never stop. Where do you put it all?”

The mouse, of course, didn’t reply. With the food farther away and more towards Jerome, the mouse hesitated to approach it. It never blinked away from the giant man watching it closely. Jerome hummed to himself.

“Told you I’m not gonna hurt ya. I get how it feels, to be so small in a world so ready to beat you down. It ain’t nice, but that’s what vermin like us get in a world like this. You can’t spend all your life in a dark hole, can you? You gotta leave the shadows eventually.”

Slowly, the mouse drew nearer, but it was still prepared to flee should Jerome so much as blink the wrong way.

“See? Much better,” he commended, as though the mouse would understand the encouragement. “It’s different in the light, isn’t it? More freeing. I bet that same cracker tastes better out here, too.”

The more the minutes ticked by, the less tense the mouse got. It began to lower its head from Jerome, allowing a few seconds to pass without maintaining direct eye contact. This was progress, and Jerome was thrilled.

When the mouse sniffed around for more food, Jerome held a piece of cracker up between his fingers. No more floor-feeding. He needed to get the mouse to come closer.

“Come on, you know you want it,” Jerome tempted with a quirked brow. “A mouse is never full, remember?”

Minutes ticked by again, and the mouse kept performing its scurrying dance.

“You’re killing me, Mousy,” Jerome sighed. “If you don’t eat from my hand then I’ll be forced to enjoy this bland cracker myself. Know what that means? None left for you. And whose fault do you think that’ll be?”

As though it understood the mild, underlying threat, the mouse finally kicked itself towards Jerome’s extended hand and proceeded to munch away at the cracker. Jerome smiled to himself.

“How’d you even find your way into this loony bin, huh? Unless you’re one of us, of course. Ever by any chance committed murder and pleaded insanity?”

_Silence._ The mouse continued eating like there was no tomorrow.

Jerome snorted. “Nah. You’re probably the sanest creature in here. And, buddy, that says a lot!”

The mouse jerked at Jerome’s sudden cackle. Jerome muffled his laughter and threw the mouse an apologetic look… at least, the best he could muster.

“Pardon my excitement. I don’t normally get visitors around here, y’know?”

Gradually, the mouse inched its way back to finish up the last bit of cracker left. When all was gone, it sniffed Jerome’s fingers before looking up expectantly.

Jerome shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that, fatty. You had the whole thing and didn’t even share.”

Sensing the mouse’s calmness, he moved a finger against its puffy cheek. The mouse didn’t run away, it allowed it.

“Whether you’re criminally insane or not, you shouldn’t be in here,” Jerome said quietly, running his finger over the mouse’s rounded ears. “No one here will be willing to feed ya at all hours of the night, let alone allow you to roam free wherever you please.” A soft frown drew between his brows. “Come to think of it, Mousy, you won’t find that kindness no matter where you go. It’s a shame you’re vermin.”

The mouse panicked when Jerome gently scooped it up between two hands. He held it securely so that it wouldn’t hurt itself, but not tightly enough to provoke it to bite back in defense.

“ _Shh_ … Quit squirming, stupid,” Jerome muttered, trying to calm it again by softly petting its head. “I’m vermin like you, remember? I’m not gonna hurt you. There… good,” he said when the mouse finally stopped trying to escape and instead looked at Jerome questioningly.

Jerome returned to his cot and propped his pillow up against the wall. Stretching his legs out, he set the mouse atop his chest and let his heavy eyelids fall. He wasn’t holding onto the mouse as securely anymore. He granted it space to move around and could feel it sniffing his hands and shirt. He knew it wouldn’t run away now, not when it associated Jerome with food, comfort, and safety.

“Just tonight,” Jerome said, his voice coated with sleep. “Tomorrow I’m setting you free beyond the Asylum walls. It’s no place for vermin in here, Mousy, I told you. You’ll never survive. As for me… well, I don’t plan on staying here for much longer either. It’s a lot more depressing than you think. Who knows, we might just bump into one another on the other side someday. After all, us vermin should stick together. We’re all we’ve got.”

**Author's Note:**

> He's a meanie, but he's not all bad, right? What better to judge the kindness of a human being than an animal's complete faith and trust in them? :)
> 
> Thanks for reading and comment to let me know what you think!


End file.
